Choices make me cry.

The choices that I’ve made in my almost 27 years of living on this retarded planet have really fucked me.  I’m not blaming anyone but myself and the gay-ass chemicals in my brain.  The chemicals coerce me into doing really stupid things, and similarly, NOT doing smart things.

I ultimately have the choice, the final word in the fireside chats with my chemicals. 

One day I remember fondly, my neurons were misfiring like usual and so I scheduled a quick touchbase to figure out a solution, or at least listen to their suggestions.

We met at a local nook on the couch (where I have my usual anxiety attacks) and started going over what we needed to do going forward.  They suggested I forget about the interesting book I wanted to read or the creative writing I wanted to do and instead stare at the floor and cry hopelessly.  I asked them how the fuck this would improve my life and they of course proceeded to explain that I was a hell of a crazy gal anyway so I should just try to wallow.  This still not making sense, I got up and paced restlessly.  The fuckers made me antsy right after having been banished to non-movement with tears on the couch!  Now I’m antsy because I just cannot figure out what my damn neurons and hormones are doing.  I finally said that I needed to re-schedule for a follow-up touch base with some more research on their part.  They sighed, but said that in the meantime they suggest an off-site conference either in a bar or with enablers.  SCREW YOU GUYS! I do NOT have time for that.  But the way I feel after that unproductive meeting, I know it’s the only solution I have.

I decided to circle back with them after my damaging off-site, so I sent out an urgent meeting request.  I couldn’t quite get good reception on the polycom, but I managed to pick up a few snippets. They told me that after some research they concluded that they were wrong about sending me to the offsite afterall.  The CIO of my chemicals, seratonin, stepped in for an impromptu aside as he had some enlightening news about all of this.  He said that I made the wrong decision and that he would round up the folks and have a town hall to explain what happened and how they can do better in the future.  As soon as the CIO left, however, some of the neurons came up to me and said that I should feel really badly about making the wrong decision and not to worry about being pro-active. I was pissed and knew this was bullshit, but my hormones and the other fuckheads didn’t want to allow me to become proactive. 

So I came full circle, and realized I should hire some consultants to come in and maybe fix these operational glitches that are going on in my head.  One consultant I contacted to come in for a preliminary round table was a company called Positive Thinking Inc.

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